


Not Enough or Way Too Much

by matchsticks_p (matchsticks)



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchsticks/pseuds/matchsticks_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heero and Quatre and all the ways they're not teenagers anymore. Futurefic, negotiating a relationship like adults and not always completely failing at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Enough or Way Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> Written for MegB, who won this fic in the help_japan charity auctions.

Heero wasn't the dating type, which was actually just fine with Quatre because he had a lot of work to do, and if they weren't fucking then he'd rather be catching up on a backlog of budget reports than sitting awkwardly at some restaurant watching Heero Yuy make painful attempts at small talk. Honestly. Quatre didn't know why people assumed he was secretly dying for a night out with Heero. His sister Iria kept sending him encouraging little tips about how to get "his man" to do something nice for him. It was horrifying.

Speaking of horrifying, Heero entered the living room wearing the shirt they had both just used to wipe cum off themselves earlier, scratching his balls with one hand. Quatre hid the wrinkling of his nose behind the file folder he was holding.

"'Leave hints about your interests for him to find around your birthday or Valentine's day'," Heero read aloud as he riffled through the stack of memos on Quatre's desk.

"You can't just look through my stuff. What if there's confidential information?"

"Then you should be sternly reprimanded for leaving it where anybody can see. 'Clip out advertisements for events you'd like to attend and stick them on the fridge'? Is someone trying to teach you how to be more passive-aggressive?"

Quatre put down the file with a sigh. "It's my sister, She thinks you don't take me out enough."

"I don't take you out ever."

"Right. And she thinks that's not enough."

There was a moment of silence long enough for Quatre to assume the conversation was over. But when he looked back up from reading, Heero's eyes were on him in that unsettlingly intense way only he could pull off.

"What?" Quatre asked when he couldn't stand the feeling of all the hairs on his neck raising anymore.

"Do you _want_ me to take you out more?"

"What? No, that would be—" Quatre didn't even know an adjective for how it would be; all he knew was that he wanted to finish his work and not be having this ridiculous conversation. "Look, if I wanted something, I would just tell you. In words, not via cryptic notes written into the steam on the mirror as you shower." That had been another of Iria's priceless suggestions, which Quatre would be using never, thank you very much. Quatre changed tack and allowed a smirk to creep onto his face. "I didn't have any trouble asking for what I wanted an hour ago, in the bedroom, did I?"

Heero just said "Hm" and stared at him some more.

So Quatre ignored him and went back to reading his reports. He was hopefully going to finish by midnight, and then he was going to pretend to think about kicking Heero out of his house, but then he was going to let Heero stay the night and they'd give each other messy blowjobs before they went to sleep. Hero might be gone before he woke up tomorrow morning, but if he wasn't, then Quatre would make him coffee with more sugar and milk than he liked and he'd damn well drink it without complaining because Quatre made it for him. That was the way Quatre liked their relationship. No frills and hassle-free. Iria and all the rest of his sisters could go mind their own business.

\- - - - -

Quatre got a phone call from Trowa on his lunch break and decided to take it while eating his sandwich. Trowa wouldn't mind the chewing sounds. They had seen each other through much worse and politeness would seem like an inane farce at this point.

"Heero made me go out to the pub with him last night," Trowa said without saying hello, reaffirming Quatre's opinion on etiquette between them. "It was horrible."

"What pub? Why?"

"The one two blocks from his place. He wanted _to talk_."

Quatre smothered a laugh and tried not to choke on his homemade sourdough. The thought of Heero and Trowa on an ill-fated man date, trying to fight against their own natural inclination toward silence, was really too funny for words.

"What did he want to talk about?"

"I'm not even sure. He spent most of the night just glowering at me and asking me questions about you. Not even about you now, but about AC 195 you."

A giggle burst out of Quatre this time and he was powerless to stop it. He had always suspected that Heero was a bit jealous of Trowa still, after all this time. When he and Heero first met Quatre had such a raging crush on Trowa that it could be seen from the flagship colony on Mars. But that was a long time ago, and Trowa was incurably straight, and he and Quatre had long settled into a comfortable best friendship. 

"It's not funny, Quatre. I've lived through actual torture and this was worse." 

"Sorry, sorry. He found out the other day that my sisters think he's a bad boyfriend and now he's questioning the status quo of our relationship, or something. He isn't used to self-examining his feelings," Quatre rolled his eyes as he said 'feelings' and trusted that Trowa could hear it through his voice. "It's probably making him massively uncomfortable." 

"It's making _me_ massively uncomfortable. Next time he wants to know where your 'favourite vacation hotspot' is, he should just ask you instead of me."

Quatre giggled again. He couldn't help it. The thought of Trowa and Heero, sitting at the bar, resolutely looking into their drinks instead of at each other, muttering out the sides of their mouths and both dying to leave—he composed himself before he broke down in a laughing fit at his office. 

He and Trowa chatted about a few other things, updated each other on how their families were doing, and made plans to get together next week, before Quatre had to go back to work. Before hanging up, Trowa said, "And don't mention this conversation to Heero? I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to tell you about it."

Quatre figured Heero was probably smart enough to realise that Trowa told Quatre everything, but he promised nonetheless and bade Trowa goodbye.

\- - - - -

Relena needed a new dress for a charity ball and for once Quatre had a free Saturday, so he agreed to be her shopping companion. He hated to be a cliché, but he really did have a good eye for colour and an instinct for what would flatter a girl's figure.

It took them a few hours, but they finally found the perfect dress at a boutique that featured independent designers. As Relena headed toward the cash register, gorgeous green crushed silk tucked under her arm, Quatre hung behind to look at some men's watches.

"Looking for a new watch?" Relena asked when she was finished paying.

"Not for myself," Quatre murmured, browsing the selection with a keen eye. There were a few pieces of good quality and sleek design, unique enough to make a satisfactory gift but minimalist enough that the recipient would actually wear it.

"Well?"

"Heero."

Relena was much too ladylike to snort, but if she weren't, then the sound she made would definitely have been a snort of disgust. "Why?"

"It's sort of our anniversary," Quatre replied, choosing a particularly severe-looking watch with black steel and no numbers. "I mean, if we were sentimental enough to officially count the days we were together, it would be around the time of our anniversary."

"Ugh, so you're serious about him?"

Quatre shrugged. "Maybe. Sure. Why not?" He paid for the watch and discreetly tried to keep Relena from seeing the price. She saw it anyway.

" _Seriously?_ I mean, seriously. Heero? He's such an asshole. "

"Hey, I seem to remember _you_ having quite a crush on him, back in the day." 

Relena rolled her eyes delicately. "I was fifteen, Quatre. I had quite a crush on my German tutor, my mother's chauffeur, and half of the school fencing team too."

Quatre just rolled his eyes right back at her as they exited the shop, caustic and fond at the same time. They had a late lunch, over which Relena gave him all sorts of unsolicited relationship advice regarding Heero. It was nothing like his sisters' advice, because unlike them Relena actually knew Heero. She told him not to let Heero keep a gun under the pillow when they were fucking because that just wasn't the sort of freak accident a family could live down, and not to ever believe a single word Heero said when he came back from an off-planet assignment with the Preventers. Quatre waved her off between bites of pasta salad. Maybe it was because everyone still remembered back when he looked like a wide-eyed and weak-wristed wood nymph, but nobody seemed to believe that Quatre was perfectly capable of handling Heero himself.

As the day wound down to a close and Quatre leaned in to kiss Relena's cheek before they parted ways, Relena had one more piece of advice for him. "If he ever hurts you," she said, holding onto Quatre's forearm and looking deep into his eyes, "just punch him right in the balls."

\- - - - -

Their professional and social circles continued to overlap enough that the five of them still found themselves together at the same formal functions a few times every year. Just like the old days. 

Quatre and Trowa integrated themselves among the esteemed guests, making polite small talk. Heero took his usual place, joining Duo and Wufei in a corner with his drink in hand, ducking away from the not so furtive eye-daggers shot at him by both Trowa's and Quatre's sisters.

"Iria still thinks you're not fit to lick the ground her baby brother walks on, I see," Wufei said.

"She's convinced I'm going to ruin him." As though anyone could actually ruin the indomitable Quatre Raberba Winner, if it ever came down to it. Everyone in this room knew the strength Quatre was truly capable of. "Why do people always think I'm the heartless one, anyway? I haven't even killed half as many people as Quatre."

Heero didn't realise that it was _still_ too soon to joke about it until he saw Wufei freeze with his cup halfway to his mouth, which hung open in shock. Jesus christ, it had been ten years, surely they could casually reference it by now.

Duo gave Heero a disgusted look. "That's why."

Heero didn't bother trying to pretend he was sorry for saying it. 

Dinner was served and Heero ate with Iria's eyes boring into him every time he turned to say something to Quatre. Music started up after dinner, and guests began filling the dance floor. Heero found himself sitting back with a glass of wine to watch Quatre waltz with Relena. It wasn't a bad way to cap the evening, watching Quatre's lithe body glide gracefully across his vision. He felt the corners of his lips creep up despite himself. Trowa and Duo whispered to his left and exchanged knowing smiles behind his back with Wufei, who sat on his right. Heero chose to ignore them in favour of the more attractive sight of the strong arch of Quatre's shoulder blades as he bent to dip Relena.

Their eyes met across the room when the song ended. Quatre tilted his head in an invitation, and even though Heero knew he was just teasing he still couldn't help the look of genuine horror that crossed his face as he shook his head. Heero Yuy was not a social dancer. Quatre laughed at him. Heero could hear the sound clearly despite the background hum of general merriment, hearty and mocking and not at all offended. Quatre was probably the only person alive who would just as easily laugh at him as he would laugh with him.

He pushed up from the table and tilted his head at Quatre in return. He walked out the bay windows, thrown open to let in the warm summer evening, and waited for Quatre on the lawn, knowing he would follow.

Soon enough, he heard Quatre approach from behind, saying, "Are you sure you don't want to dance? I think there's a tango starting up soon."

Heero turned to look at him, backlit by the party's blazing chandeliers and not at all put out by the fact that the damp lawn is wreaking havoc on his trouser cuffs. The weight of Heero's new watch pressed on his wrist, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. 

"Thank you for the watch," Heero said, a week late. "I mean, I know you got it for me last week and I'm a dick for not saying thanks until now but it's nice. I like it. And I know I'm also a dick for not saying anything about last week being…last week, and for not getting you something for last week. But now I'm offering to buy you tickets to Acapulco for a vacation to celebrate the fact that last week was last week."

Quatre blinked.

"Wait, Trowa said Acapulco, right? Or was it Guadalajara?" Heero frowned. "It doesn't matter. We can go to whatever Mexican state you want."

"I don't…" Quatre trailed off, and he looked around a bit like he was searching for a clue or maybe for someone to help him figure out what to say, but there was no one outside besides him and Heero and the half-full moon. Quatre adjusted his tie, coughed, and finally decided to just laugh at Heero again. "You know I'm really busy, right? Like, I'm on the steering committee for this brand new project we're launching next month, and my schedule is packed for the next year at least. I'm not going to be able to take vacation days for a really, really long time. And you hate the beach."

Heero shrugged. "I do. But you like it."

"Oh, Heero." 

Quatre leaned in, made an aborted action like he was going to take Heero's hand remembered at the last minute that Heero didn't like holding hands. Heero reached out and grabbed Quatre's hand anyway, roughly and kind of awkwardly. Quatre bit his lip to stop himself from smiling too wide.

"When are you going to believe me that it's fine, Heero? I don't want to go to Acapulco. I don't want you to be the kind of person that would get offended about the fact that I just turned down Acapulco in favour of work. I want you to stay just as you are."

Heero's fingers tightened around Quatre's knuckles. He was suspicious, but Quatre was honest.

-end

 

Endnote: The working title of this fic was " You Were an Asshole Because You Were Fifteen (What's Your Excuse Now)", fyi.


End file.
